


God

by momijizukamori



Category: Gundam 00
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momijizukamori/pseuds/momijizukamori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four meisters, four different perspectives on religion</p>
            </blockquote>





	God

It was months after he'd left Krugis before he stopped instinctively figuring out which direction Mecca was, wherever he went, and years before he'd stop sometimes waking up half an hour before dawn, expecting to hear the call to prayer. He didn't fault those who still believed - but he couldn't, not since the war. He could not believe in a god who would allow such a world to continue.

***

His family had not been particularly religious, though they went to church every Sunday. He followed his parents without complaint, trying to keep from fidgeting during the long services while his brother kicked his legs on the edge of the pew, and his sister hushed them both. After the attack, as he was shuttled around foster homes, he'd stopped going, stopped the pretense of believing. He still had the rosary his parents had given him as a First Communion gift, though - matching ones for the matching brothers, even as they drifted farther and farther apart. He kept it in his pockets, sometimes, fingers drifting over the worn wooden beads in an act of devotion not to God, but to those ties he'd lost.

***

They had not taught him about God in the Institute - only what Marie had told him, in small, stolen moments. A being who loved them unconditionally, regardless of what they'd done and what had been done to them. It was hard to believe, but he wanted to, even as his other self laughed and told him that nobody could ever love them. He was thirteen, living on the streets of a nameless Russian city when he saw a church for the first time. Allelujah had desperately scrambled the the front, forcing Hallelujah to be quiet for a moment, as he took in the site. The chuch was large, old, and he'd snuck in the door to stare reverentially at the soaring arches and ornate wall paintings. Even years later, in space, he could still recall that one moment of perfect beauty.

***

There was no God in the dark drape of space, no God for those created rather than born. Thre was only Veda - 'wisdom' in one of the ancient languages of Earth, and the name was truth. The sum total of mankind's greatest achievements. When he connected to Veda, he felt complete, a single perfect part of a greater whole, his purpose crystal-clear. It never occured to him that this was a feeling some humans had been striving for centuries to achieve - to him, it simply _was_.


End file.
